A/N Okay, so this is a story I've been working on for what seems like forever. I had to rework some parts but I think it's finally ready to be read. Anyway, this is set about fifty or so years after the W.I.T.C.H girls were around and is the story of the next generation of guardians. Also, I've based its history off the stuff in the TV series so please don't yell at me for getting facts wrong if I do. Please be nice, this is my first W.I.T.C.H fan fic.
The hub of the airport around her was soothing in a way. The noise was such a large contrast to the quiet house she'd spent the last few days in that it made her think that things were almost normal again. Almost. The noise of people coming and going on their late night flights was not enough to completely erase the knowledge that things were different now. Jordyn sighed as she pushed a hand through her hair, spiked and black with the ends dyed electric blue. Once again she looked around the terminal before going back to watching the people around her, waiting for their luggage, greeting long lost family members, saying teary goodbyes. She was bored. The iPod in her pocket wasn't an option. She wasn't in the mood for the blaring music on it. For the first time in her life she longed for the classical music her mother used to play around the house, music she'd always despised.
Jordyn was waiting for someone and had been for almost an hour. It was almost midnight and her ride still wasn't there yet. She supposed that it was her fault for not getting someone aside from her grandmother to pick her up at the airport but she didn't know anyone else in Heatherfield so that was that. She wasn't even sure she knew what she looked like. The last time she'd seen the woman was when she was four. She and her parents had lived in Seattle, which was a good distance from her father's parents' home in Heatherfield and they didn't see them often. And after her dad had died her mom had cut all ties with them. All Jordyn could remember about her grandmother was that they had the same color eyes, a sort of walnut color that looked reddish in the right light. And apparently she was a bit of a scatterbrain though that could have been because of the late hour at which Jordyn's flight had gotten in. Still it would have been nice to have been picked up right away and to be at her grandmother's house by now . . .
"Jordyn?" She tore her eyes away from a cute guy that was reading a book and turned them to an elderly woman that was holding a purse almost as big as she was. She had short straight white hair and wrinkled skin but her eyes were young and bright, smiling though her expression was inquisitive. Yep, that was her grandma.
"That's me." She said, getting to her feet and grabbing her bags. She shouldered her backpack and duffle bag and grabbed her rolling suitcase.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, dear, I got talking with an old friend and lost track of time." Of course she had.
"That's okay. I haven't been here too long." Her grandmother laughed as they started towards the terminal's doors.
"Of course you have. Your plane landed an hour ago." She said with a wave of her hand. "Let's get going, though; I've got Chinese food waiting at home." Jordyn's stomach grumbled at the thought of food. "You can meet your grandpa tomorrow, hon."
The ride to her grandparents' house was tense and Jordyn spent it trying not to toss her cookies. She hated driving, always opting to walk or bike if given the opportunity, and her grandmother's way of hugging the curves and stopping and starting suddenly left much to be desired. Jordyn was sure if she spoke it would come out sounding nothing like any language from Earth. Eventually the car pulled up to a small house and stopped. Her stomach twisted nervously as she stared up at the house while her grandma got out and went around to get her door for her—it didn't open from the inside for some reason. With the door open the elder woman started for the house while Jordyn got her bags and shut and locked the car. Jordyn paused on the porch, just outside the doorframe, staring into the front hall of the house like it was about to attack her. She didn't want to go inside. If she did that would mean it was all over. Her mother, her father, her old life. It would end the second she set foot in that house, no matter how wonderful her grandparents were. But she needed to move on, even if it was slowly. She took the last step and entered the house as the sound of a microwave being turned on reached her ears.
"That sounds good." She muttered under her breath as she left her stuff in the living room and moved towards the kitchen.
"Oh, be nice to her." She heard her grandmother say. "I know you like to not heat things the way through but she's having a difficult time." Jordyn stepped into the kitchen to see her grandma facing the microwave, talking to it fondly.
"Grandma, you okay?" She jumped, turning away from the microwave with a shaky smile.
"Yes, just talking to myself, dear." She said absently, running a gnarled hand through her hair. Jordyn looked at the microwave, half expecting it to start talking, but let it go, turning to the already warm bowl of beef and broccoli.
"Uh, Grandma, I just wanted to let you know that I'm allergic to walnuts." She said as she sat down, taking the fork her grandma offered and digging into the food. Her grandmother nodded, turning back to the microwave, shaking or nodding her head every so often like it was asking her questions.
The silence returned as they ate and it wasn't until Jordyn had gone through a bowl of the beef and broccoli, two boxes of fried rice, and a container of chicken noodle soup that her grandma spoke.
"Jordyn, you do know that your grandfather and I love you, right?" Jordyn paused, her spoon hanging out of her mouth, and then nodded. She smiled, nodding absently in response. "Your mother was upset when Rick died, you know. We tried to help her, we wanted to fly out and see you again after the funeral, but she wouldn't let us." Jordyn put her spook down slowly. "Do you even remember what our names are, dear?" Jordyn thought back and blushed, shaking her head sheepishly as she realized they'd always been referred to as "Daddy's parents" or "oh, them? no one" by her mother. "Will and Matt Olsen, dear." Her grandma supplied with a short chuckle. Jordyn gave her a small smile.
"Okay, Grandma." She said shyly.
"You know, Jordyn, you're only supposed to have so many holes in your head." Will joked, indicating Jordyn's facial piercings. Eyebrow, nose, and her ears from her lobes to her cartilage were pierced with studs. Jordyn found little rings flimsy looking and stupid. Studs were a lot more sturdy and easier to see on cluttered dresser tops. "I think they look nice." Jordyn responded by running a hand through her hair and staring off in any direction but Will's. "Anyway, you'd better get to bed, hon. You aren't going to be enrolled until sometime next week but I'm putting the presence of a young person to use. You'll be getting up at eight to help me out with the garden and then you can go on over to my friend's restaurant. She says she's got a job for you. It'll do you good to earn your own money." She got up then and left an indignant and dumbfounded Jordyn at the kitchen table.
What? A job? She had to be kidding. Jordyn sat at the table, fuming, for a few minutes before she stalked upstairs, snooping a bit before she found her new room. A job, who did she think she was? She was only thirteen, surely she was too young for a job. Okay, so she was turning fourteen in three weeks but that wasn't the point. This had to be illegal, child labor and all that. Her anger bubbled higher and higher as she got ready for bed and crawled under the black bedding on the bed in her room. At least they matched her tastes. But what was she going to do about that job? And chores? Grandma Will had to be kidding.
—
"Kids, come on wake up, you're going to be late!" Mrs. Lyndon yelled, pounding on her children's bedroom doors as she passed. "I made breakfast and it isn't going to stay warm forever. Come on, everybody up!" She stopped at the last door before the stairs and knocked a bit more quietly before sticking her head in. "Wakie, wakie, McKenzie. Breakfast is ready." The lump on the bed groaned, moving a bit before going still. "I've got water and I'm not afraid to use it, missy." The lump slowly rose into a sitting position, still groaning. "I let you sleep in fifteen minutes, McKenzie; I don't want to hear any more groaning." She said firmly, leaving and shutting the door behind her.
Alone in her dark room McKenzie made a soft grumbling noise, pushing her wild, curly red hair out of her face. If anyone asked she would say she was a member of the Lyndon family because, after living with them for almost a month, she was. Despite the obvious difference in appearance—the Lyndon family was primarily Oriental with a few differences in eye color from Mr. Lyndon's dad's side of the family while McKenzie was a full-blooded Irish girl—they were incredibly close and more like a family than McKenzie's parents and her had ever been. But in reality she was an exchange student from Ireland where she had lived with her cousin after her parents had gotten a divorce, neither of them wanting anything to do with her. She'd pounced at the chance to get out of the country, even if it was only until the end of the semester in two months. She talked to the Lyndon's daughter, Mei, who had switched with her, a lot and they were really great friends and couldn't wait until they could meet in person. And she loved the Lyndon family.
The twins, Genji and Chang, ran down the hall, screaming that the youngest child, Tyler, had wet the bed again. Okay, so she loved them in the afternoon, when their thunderous noise wasn't quite as jarring. McKenzie giggled as she pulled a pair of jeans on, in a hurry to get to the table before everyone else had already gotten food. The Lyndon family had three boys and four girls including Mei, who was the oldest at fourteen, and it was hard to get food in the morning, especially when Mrs. Lyndon only had so much time to make breakfast before she had to go downstairs and open the restaurant, the Silver Dragon, which had been in the family for four generations. McKenzie usually ended up getting the younger kids ready for school and making sure they made it to the bus stop. Mr. Lyndon was almost always away on business trips—he was a salesman for some kind of electronic company or something—so he wasn't any help, even on the mornings he was there.
"Kenzie, where's my shoes?" Genji asked loudly as McKenzie buttered some toast, keeping an eye on Tyler as he ate his Cheerios one by one, taking gulps from his sippy cup every so often. He was two and a half and could eat on his own but not with a spoon quite yet.
"Um," she said through a mouthful of toast, looking around for Genji's Ariel sneakers. She was obsessed with the Disney princesses at the moment and her things—shoes, backpack, pencil case, shirts, blankets, pillows, sheets, whatever else one could fit a logo on—displayed this love loudly and colorfully. Finally McKenzie spotted the girl's sneakers peeking out from under the couch in the living room. "Under the couch, Genji." She finally said after swallowing her toast.
After breakfast was eaten and everyone was dressed, had brushed their hair and teeth, and had their homework in their bags McKenzie herded the kids downstairs. Mrs. Lyndon took Tyler to pre-K while McKenzie walked those already in public school to their respective bus stops. She wished them a good day and then continued on her way to her bus stop, half-skipping as she went. It was a beautiful day after all. The sun was out, a wonderful breeze was blowing, and it wasn't too warm, unlike the past few days that had been positively sweltering compared to what she was used to in Ireland. She hummed softly as she bounced up to her bus stop, her curls springing on her shoulders. The others at the stop gave her half-smiles having gotten used to her overly cheerful attitude in the past months, knowing that if they didn't acknowledge her presence she'd make a point of chirpily saying good morning to all of them.
She was full out singing—under her breath of course, but still loud enough to catch the attention of the others waiting with her for the bus—when the bus chugged up to the stop, paused, and opened its doors. She bounded up the stairs and quickly moved towards the back where her best friend Katie was sitting with one of her other friends, Chloe. McKenzie didn't know Chloe well but she could always spare a smile for the blonde.
"Good—" She started happily as she sat down next to Katie before a hand was clapped to her mouth, muffling the rest of her greeting. The girl—Katie that is, not McKenzie—had caked the black eye shadow and eyeliner on especially thick today, a sign she wasn't in a good mood.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence." She growled dangerously, her black-nailed hand still clamped over the perky Irish girl's mouth. McKenzie was still talking, her voice muffled by Katie's hand but not silenced. Her grip on McKenzie's mouth tightened. "Not one more word." She hissed, hazel eyes flashing dangerously. McKenzie smiled under her hand and nodded, obviously not fazed by Katie's less than enthusiasm for the early morning. Satisfied with McKenzie's silent promise to be quiet she pulled back and turned to talk to Chloe, who was fretting over a project.
"But what if I pick something that I think I can finish but when the time comes I can't even think of anything to do?" She asked Katie nervously as the bus thundered away from its last stop and towards the school.
"Trust me, if anyone can finish a project, you can. You worry too much." Chloe bit her lip, looking out the window. Katie sighed heavily, not wanting to waste her barely-there energy on a clearly lost cause.
"Hey, did y' guys hear? There's a new girl startin' next week." McKenzie said as they got off the bus a few minutes later.
"Heard? My grandma wants me to make nice with her." Chloe complained. "She's the granddaughter of a friend apparently." She brushed her hair out of her face absently, a crease appearing between her eyebrows as they pulled together.
"Well, we can all make nice with her then. It'll be fun!" McKenzie insisted, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. Katie rolled her eyes.
"Last time I checked I wasn't signed up for the welcoming committee." Her slightly raspy voice tried and failed to cut through McKenzie's excitement as they walked towards the school's main entrance.
"Yeah, 'cause I signed y' up yesterday when I found out about the new girl." Katie groaned.
"You are a dead girl." She growled, reaching for McKenzie, who lightly danced out of the way. "There ain't no way I'm going to be the annoyingly peppy meet-and-greet that gets her gym clothes flushed down the toilet." McKenzie giggled as she grabbed Chloe by the shoulders and pulled the pixie-sized blonde between them.
"Oh, y're no fun." She complained lightly, still gripping Chloe's shoulders.
"I'm not paid to have fun." Katie said dryly, finally giving up on trying to catch her friend.
"But it'd be wicked fun, please?" McKenzie's eyes got all wide and Katie rolled her eyes, huffing as she continued towards the entrance.
"You'd better get in contact with the welcoming committee and tell them they've got one less member."
—
"All aboard the Sheffield Express!" A loud voice blared from the PA system of Sheffield Institute, causing several students to jump. "My name's Amber Holt and I'll be your conductor on this train wreck we call school today." Amber was halfway out of her chair in the broadcasting station, her mouth centimeters from the microphone. "Don't worry, though, if things get a little crazy we've still got the emergency brakes!" She laughed for a moment before continuing with her report. "You'd better get those late passes for your sixth period class signed now ladies and gentlemen. Today's lunch is lasagna and for those of you sticking around for it the nurse's station is two doors down from the principal's office on the right." She paused for a moment, pushing her dark brown bangs behind her ear before continuing. "Also, there's a signup sheet outside Mrs. Renolds' History room for all seniors interested in the week long field trip to Washington D.C. Yes, parental consent is mandatory and according to Mrs. Renolds she is still looking for parents to volunteer to be chaperones. Better not tell them about that, though, until after the buses have pulled away from the school." Amber sat back in her chair, letting it roll away from the table for a moment before pulling herself back. "Homecoming is next week so break out those cocktail dresses, people. All those interested in helping with decorations or volunteering for the carnival, please see the head of the Art Department, Mr. Mendez. Also on next month's agenda is the Halloween Masquerade Ball coming up in a little over three weeks. We'll get back to that later but we are going to be looking for volunteers to help set up decorations. Anyway, let's go to Lionel for the weather. Lionel?" A freshman wearing thick glasses, a sweater vest, and one of the saddest haircuts Amber had ever seen in her life leaned towards his microphone in the room on the other side of the glass, reading the weather report off his phone.
"Today's looking sunny side up, Sheffield, with the temperatures in the mid seventies so you can retire your jackets to your lockers for another day. This report is brought to you by and yours truly. Now to Ursula for the latest updates on local gossip." That was Amber's cue to leave. She turned off her mic and got up, grabbing her bag from where she'd stashed it under the table.
"See you later." She whispered as she peeked into the room Lionel was in, a huge smile on her face. He looked up at her with an answering grin.
"Hey, you'll talk to Katie for me today, right?" He asked nervously, speaking quietly so Ursula—called the Sea Witch by most of Sheffield's students—wouldn't hear.
"I'll try but you know her. She doesn't give people like me the time of day." He made a face, understanding.
"Yeah, well, good luck." He was a bit more forlorn as he turned back to the board of switches and knobs in front of him.
"Thanks, I'll need it." She gave a small wave before she ducked out of the room and took off sprinting down the hall, desperate to get to homeroom before the bell rang. Her hair, pulled into two short braids, slapped her neck and shoulders as she ran through the halls, dodging annoyed students and teachers.
"Holt," she slid into her chair just as the teacher called her name.
"Here," she gasped, leaning forward on her desk. Professor Thorp pursed her lips but checked her off as present instead of tardy. She panted quietly against her desk as attendance continued and then the bell signaling the end of homeroom rang and she was left to run to her first class, science with Applegate, which was on the other side of the building.
"Miss Holt, you're late again." Mr. Applegate had a pension for the obvious. Amber groaned as her head fell to the tabletop in front of her.
"Mr. Applegate, my homeroom class is on the other side of the building." She offered weakly, trying to catch her breath. Mr. Applegate's thick mustache seemed to bristle as he gave her a sharp look.
"That's no excuse, Miss Holt. Here's your pass to the principal's office." Amber groaned, grabbing her bag as she got up and went to the front of the room to get the pass he handed her. This was the tenth time this month she'd been late for his class and it wasn't even October yet.
When Amber got to Principal Wuebber's office two people were sitting outside it, both of them regulars that each had files at least six inches thick. One was Zach Milda and the other was a girl Amber recognized as Katie Martinez. The girl had a pack of ice on her knuckles and the beginnings of a fat lip. Man, first period and she'd already gotten in a fight. Amber sat down next to Katie, who gave her a sharp glare as warning that she wasn't in the mood to be talked to. Unfortunately Amber didn't have as much of a sense of self-preservation as Katie expected her to.
"Hi, I'm Amber." She said in a half-shy-half-friendly way. Katie's glare hardened, her hazel eyes looking like rocks.
"Yeah and I'm Katie. I know you, you know me, so shut up and stop trying to earn yourself a black eye." She sounded bored but the threat was real. After all, she'd already gotten into a fight with the bozo sitting next to her, taking out the class clown would be a walk in the park.
"Yeah, but you don't know Lionel." She persisted, uncaring at the growing chances that she'd soon be sporting a mark of Katie's quickly ignited temper. Amber could tell she'd confused the older girl and she hoped she would stay that way until she'd finished talking. "He's in your algebra class," Katie obviously had no idea who she was talking about and was getting annoyed, "tall, gangly, incredibly awkward, ridiculously huge glasses?" Katie's eyes flashed with recognition and then annoyance and she turned away from Amber, letting out a rough huff.
"If he sent you to talk to me you're wasting your time. I'm not taking back what I said about him being a dork." Amber chuckled.
"Of course you won't. He's a total dork." She agreed firmly, knowing that there was no denying Lionel's geeky status. "He's a dork with a crush, though . . ." Amber decided it wouldn't be best to try and beat around the bush with the blunt girl.
"No, my final answer and I don't want him crying when he sees me later." Just then Principal Wuebber's office door opened and three people stepped out. One was a girl with spiked black and blue hair and multiple facial piercings and the other two were an elderly couple that were talking to Principal Wuebber.
"Thanks so much for your time, sir." The man was saying, casting an amused look at the girl, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. He and the girl shared a conspiratorial look while Principal Wuebber turned red.
"Yes, Mr. Olsen, this meeting was most," he gave the girl an odd look, "illuminating." Mr. Olsen chuckled, reaching out to ruffle the girl's hair, to her annoyance.
"Yeah, well, she'll be starting next week so you'd better get used to being blinded by all that illumination." He said before he left, the woman taking hold of his hand and the girl trailing after them as she put on a pair of earphones. Amber could see all three of their bodies shaking with contained laughter. The rebellious looking girl had done something and obviously the couple was well humored enough to not be mad about it.
"Amber Holt," Amber sighed, grabbing her bag and getting to her feet as Principal Wuebber held his door open for her. He sat down at his desk and Amber waited a moment before she held out her pass. He sighed heavily, taking it from her. "Late again?" He asked, pulling his reading glasses up onto his nose from the chain they hung on around his neck.
"I can't help it, sir. My homeroom class is on the third floor in the east wing and my first period class is on the first floor in the west wing. I've tried running and all it does is get me yelled at." She plopped down in the chair in front of his desk and then gave a strangled yelp, sitting straight up like someone had left a tack on the cushion. She groaned, tugging a guitar pick out from under her, a pick that had been sticking straight up when she'd taken her seat.
"That's because running isn't allowed in the halls Miss Holt." He said in a dull tone as he pulled Amber's file out of his filing cabinet, opened it, and wrote something down in it, sticking her pass inside. "Now, about this chronic lateness to Mr. Applegate's class . . ." Amber hung her head, afraid that she'd get kicked off of the radio station. "I'll just have to move you to a different homeroom." She perked up, her brown eyes wide with disbelief.
"Principal W, did I hear you right or has listening to Ursula's pop music all morning made me deaf?" Principal Wuebber gave her a flat look.
"You heard right, Miss Holt. I'm sure that if I transfer you to a different homeroom, one closer to the science room, you'll have no trouble getting to your class on time. I'll have the secretary give you a new schedule tomorrow. You can go now." Amber squealed, jumping out of her seat and running for the door. "Oh, and Miss Holt?" He called just as she opened the door. She looked back, her stomach clenching nervously. Had he just remembered something else she'd needed to be talked to about? No, no one knew that she was the one that had let all the frogs from the junior's bio lab loose last week. "Don't be late tomorrow." She let out a sigh of relief, a smile spreading across her dark features.
"Trust me, that will so not be a problem anymore."
—
"Hey, Grandma, sorry I was late. I had some stuff to pick up at the library." Chloe apologized as she carried a box of doughnuts into her grandmother's apartment. It was a tradition, the doughnuts. Every Friday after school Chloe would come over and they would have hot chocolate and doughnuts and talk. Chloe had meant to come earlier but she'd had to stop by the library for material for a project and then she'd had to call her mom to bring her the library card she'd left at home. Lillian chuckled, waving away her stressed granddaughter's worries.
"No problem, kiddo." She said happily, taking the box from her and putting it on her kitchen's counter. "So, what were you at the library for?" She asked as Chloe puttered around the kitchen, putting on a pot of water for hot chocolate.
"Oh, just some stuff for school. We've got a big project on Ancient Egypt coming up and I haven't decided what to do it on yet." She said absently as she looked to Lillian to start the stove. Her grandmother, seeing her distress, quickly turned the stove on and then sat down at the table, waiting for Chloe to join her. "I think I'll do it on the pyramids but I'm not so sure." She trailed off as she sat down and took a doughnut. Lillian smiled.
"I'm sure whatever you choose will be perfect, Chloe." She encouraged as her black cat waltzed into the room, his eyes on the box of doughnuts. "Oh, just come and get one already." Chloe rolled her eyes as Napoleon jumped onto the table and snatched one of the doughnuts from the box. Lillian treated him like an old friend instead of a lazy cat and it was always funny when he managed to score treats like doughnuts.
"Silly kitty," Chloe giggled, scratching him behind the ears as he ate. He pulled away from the doughnut, purring as he rubbed his head against her fingers.
"So, I heard from Will that her granddaughter is starting school at Sheffield next week." Lillian supplied, watching the pair fondly. Chloe's hand left Napoleon's head and she sighed heavily as she went to pour hot chocolate mix into the boiling water on the stove.
"Grandma, I know you want me to make friends with her but I can't." She said nervously as Lillian joined her at the stove, turning it off for her.
"Why?" Chloe huffed, rolling her eyes.
"'Cause, I just can't." She poured the mix in and started stirring it as Lillian went to get cream from the fridge.
"Why?" Lillian smirked as her granddaughter huffed again, this time louder.
"Because, I just can't." She repeated, this time in a slightly shriller pitch. "I hate talking to strangers. They always make me feel stupid and you said she's . . . punkish." Lillian chuckled, handing her the cream.
"Rebellious, sarcastic, and a bit rude but I never in my life said she was punkish." Chloe rolled her eyes again.
"Well, that all adds up to punkish." She insisted. "Like Aunt Irma." Chloe wrinkled her nose in memory of Lillian's close friend "Aunt Irma" who was a firecracker despite having been in a wheelchair for the past ten years after slipping on some ice and breaking her hip. Lillian laughed.
"Trust me, Irma isn't punkish. She's like the Energizer Bunny. She goes on and on and on and on and—"
"I think I get the point Grandma." Chloe cut her off before she got carried away. She poured the hot chocolate into two mugs and took them to the table, Lillian joining her after getting the sugar down.
"Don't worry, Chloe, you'll be fine." Lillian pacified the girl as she sipped nervously on her cocoa, which was half-marshmallow-half-drink. "I have a feeling you two will be great friends." Chloe rolled her eyes.
"That's what you said when Katie moved to town." She said sulkily, hating being proved wrong.
"Exactly." There was silence for a while before Lillian spoke again. "You know, Chloe, sometimes things are just meant to be." Chloe rolled her eyes again, something she often did when her grandmother got all cryptic like that. Sometimes she was sure her grandmother was more confusing than one of those fortune cookies that had double or even triple meanings.
—
For Katie the week had been . . . peaceful compared to others she'd had to live through. There had been only two days she'd had to check out of the house after curfew due to the yelling. She should have known better than to think things would stay that way. When she got home that Friday she cursed herself for being surprised and a bit startled when the sound of shouting reached her ears. Of course a few days of peace had just been the lull before a storm and as she unlocked the door Katie braced herself for what she called "Hurricane Martinez" which really could refer to either of her parents any given day of the week. Today Hurricane Martinez was female and in the form of her mother, who was standing between her father and the television, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"You don't even think about what will happen if you don't show up for work!" She was yelling in her native Spanish, a sign she was really worked up. "They'll fire you and then what will happen, Raul? You promised you'd support this family, damn it." Katie sighed quietly, grabbing an apple out of the bowl of fruit on the table in the kitchen. This was a fight her mother had had with her deadbeat dad many times. Raul's lack of interest in holding a job and subsequently paying for his share of the rent and bills was nine-out-of-ten times the source of their arguing.
"Fine, I'll just quit tomorrow. Then whether I come in or not won't be any of their business. Now move, woman, you're blocking my view." There was a loud crash and Katie glanced into the living room to see that her mother had upended the TV. Well, it wasn't exactly a mystery what side of the family she got her temper from. Her father's face turned red and he got to his feet, crumpling the can of beer in his hand as his fingers clenched into a fist. Yeah, wasn't a mystery . . . she couldn't help herself when she flinched at the sound of the can hitting the floor hard enough to make it clear he'd thrown it down. And that was her cue to leave. After all, he never actually hit her or anything so there wasn't any reason for her to stick around while her parents tried to decide who could yell louder without hurting themselves. Katie grabbed a snack out of the cupboard and went to her room, locking the door. She put on some loud music, hitting the replay button so it would keep playing after she left, and then went to her window, throwing it open. Now the thing about her apartment building was that next to it was a shorter building. Her window opened onto the roof of that shorter building. She grabbed the bag of clothes, PJs, and toiletries that she kept under her bed for nights like this and ducked out of her room.
As usual she ran the whole way from her place to Chloe's. She got there in the middle of dinner but Chloe just smiled and told her to put her stuff in her room. Mrs. Matthews gave Katie a disgruntled look but didn't say anything past asking her if she'd like to join them or wait for Chloe in her room. Katie, who wasn't one for the wholesome family air that choked the Matthews' house, took a plate of food into Chloe's room, mumbling a thanks to Mrs. Matthews as she went.
Chloe's room was just like Chloe, somewhat bare and boring looking but with plenty of books. The most exciting item in her room, in Katie's opinion, was the largish painting hanging over her dresser instead of a mirror. Chloe's grandmother had given it to her on her tenth birthday, saying she'd gotten it from a friend. It was of four . . . people, Katie guessed was the best word for them though none of them looked human. One was a blonde woman, her hair stick straight and hanging down to her knees. She was floating above the ground, her arms outstretched, a halo of light surrounding her. Her robes were a pale blue color and on her forehead an odd symbol was painted in the same pale blue color. Next to her was a dark angel, black wings holding him off the ground, his face covered by a gold mask, a pair of glowing, neon green eyes visible through the eyeholes, and a tail visible behind him. He was wearing a vest and loose pants that were in a darker shade of the blue the woman was wearing, his belt showing the symbol on her forehead. The other two looked like werecats or something like that. The first was black with pointed ears and a collar. He had huge claws on his hands and feet and teeth that Katie never wanted to mess with. The other was tan, wearing a sleeveless tunic that went down to his knees and boots. He had a belt like the dark angel's and that too had the woman's symbol on it. Katie had always liked this painting, even though the black and tan were-animals had given Chloe nightmares when she first got it. She wasn't sure why but she'd always been sure that at times she could see the people moving . . . but whenever that happened she just shook her head and told herself not to be silly. Still, there had always been something about the picture that pulled her eyes to it every time she was in the room.
"Hey, you done with that?" Katie wrenched her eyes away from the captivating painting to see Chloe standing in the doorway of her room, indicating the empty plate she was holding. Katie looked down at it, half surprised she'd finished eating without noticing, and then nodded absently, her gaze returning to the painting. "Man, you always ogle that thing like it holds the secrets to life's great questions whenever you come over." Chloe said teasingly as she followed her friend's gaze. Katie shrugged distractedly as Chloe took her plate.
"I don't know why. It's just . . ." She trailed off, frowning. "It's so weird. I feel like it's calling to me or something." She chuckled then, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Funny." Chloe rolled her eyes and left the room. Katie sighed, looking back to the picture. "Funny . . ."
The girls ended up holed up in Chloe's room watching movies on her TV and talking. That's what they usually did on the nights that Katie came over. After the sixth time Chloe had tried to use her presence to get some homework done Katie had banned any and all schoolwork talk whenever she was sleeping over. So Chloe popped in a documentary on the wild cats of the African Savanna and they changed into their pajamas. Chloe's white t-shirt and loose blue pants were a great contrast to Katie's too-big Bite Me t-shirt and Jack Skellington sweatpants. It wasn't until late that Chloe offered to do Katie's hair, an offer the older girl accepted hesitantly, not knowing exactly how far Chloe's hairstyling abilities extended. The bookish girl didn't exactly look like the type that could do more than a ponytail or simple braid. But Katie sat down and while Chloe brushed her waist length hair out they talked, mostly wondering aloud which cheerleader would be the first to be gifted with a Jersey at homecoming. The Jerseys were old football jerseys given to girls whose dresses left little to the imagination and much to be desired when it came to the dress codes. The capital J was a sign of the status and infamy they'd earned over the years Sheffield had been open.
"I don't know, maybe Rachel Phinkle." Chloe suggested as she absently brushed Katie's hair for the millionth time that night. Katie chuckled. "Or Ursula, but she's not a cheerleader." Katie full out laughed at this and Chloe tugged on her hair impatiently. "Stop wiggling or I'm going to mess this up." She chastised gently, returning to what she was doing.
"Ooh, I know who's gonna get the first Jersey." Katie said after a moment's speculation.
"Oh?" Chloe asked dubiously, tugging at Katie's hair.
"Yeah, that Lilli chick from geometry. Have you seen those shirts she wears?"
"Considering that I'm a grade below you and have no idea what Lilli even looks like, no, I haven't seen those shirts she wears." Katie bit back a yelp as Chloe tugged particularly hard on her hair.
"What are you doing to my head?" She asked inquisitively, trying to turn so she could see Chloe's handiwork. Chloe roughly pushed her head back so she was facing forward.
"Nu-uh, missy, you aren't getting a look at this until I'm done." Katie let out a short nervous chuckle.
"I'm nervous now, Specks." She said uneasily. Chloe just giggled, continuing with her work.
"You know, I think you're right about this Lilli girl." She said in an obvious attempt to change the subject. "At least, I would if you'd tell me what she looks like." Katie rolled her eyes at the pathetically hidden jump in conversation but launched into a description of "this Lilli girl."